Page 55 of Come Back to Me

“Who’s upset?” he asks, his voice free from inflection.

Zee appears to take him at his word. I mean, I know she’s smart, but that she does has me questioning her intelligence because Cody is the opposite of fine.

“You should get going, Tee.”

I shove a second pack of trail mix at her. “Don’t think I won’t be checking up on you from afar, Zee.”

She huffs out a laugh. “You drive me crazy in the best possible way. Thank you for today.”

“What? Spending someone else’s money and choosing a wardrobe that I can steal from you at any time? I’m one-hundred-percent heart.”

Her brow flutters. “Jesus, you’re right. You’ll fit into those clothes now. How much weight did you drop while I was away?!”

“Too much,” I say lightly. “But don’t worry, only the tops will fit me before long. I’m on a program called ‘eat everything Mrs. Abelman puts in front of me.’ It’s working.”

Cody snorts. “Been on that program almost my whole life.”

“Don’t you look good on it, soldier,” I purr, ignoring Zee’s widening eyes. With that, I shoot up and tap my knuckles on the roof of the car. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Which means grand theft auto is off the table? Gee, what a shame.”

I grin at my best friend, wink at Cody, then sashay to the trunk, which he pops for me so I can snag my carrier bag.

Before I can, however, he’s there. Looming. At least, that’s how I’d describe it.

It’s not because he’s freakishly tall (that can’t be good for his joints), but it’s his whole moody aura.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that Cody was relatively sanguine, but he’s not. He’s melancholic through and through. Sure, he might be quick to join in whatever the family’s doing and he doesn’t shy away from conversation, but I can read him like he’s sheet music.

“You’re taking up too much space,” I grumble.

“Sorry about that. Shall I put a pause on Mrs. Abelman’s nutrition plan?”

My lips quirk. “Not sure you could spare any pounds. They appear to be in all the right places.”

Even I’m taken aback at the flirty note to my voice.

Yet, he doesn’t roll with it. Instead, he bats it away with a concerned, “How are you getting home tonight?”

“That will be tomorrow’s problem.”

His scowl makes an appearance. “I’ll come and pick you up.”

“No, I’m intending on ending the night in someone else’s bed, Cody. I don’t need...”

Huh.

Maybe that would be hot. Him glowering at me while my date eats me out.

Filing that fantasy away for the next time I need to rub one out, I mutter, “I’ll get the bus and then a taxi to Pigeon Creek.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Who do you think you are? My daddy?”

Suddenly, all the air’s choked out of the very minimal space between us because that looming thing he does, well, he doubles down. My head’s tipped back and I’m staring into his eyes. Eyes that... Wow, they’re pretty.

Like the fluorite pendant I’m wearing, which makes no sense because his eyes aren’t purple, but sue me.

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